


Take These Broken Wings... And Learn To Fly

by cinnamont



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Prompt Fill, glee kink meme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamont/pseuds/cinnamont
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a glee-kink-meme prompt in which Blaine helps Kurt recover from an abusive relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unicorn

**Author's Note:**

> I started this about a million years ago and am posting here as part of the Glee AO3 Fest. Maybe doing so will get me to FINALLY finish it.

**\- New York City -**  
  
Blaine loved the city like this, atop his bike, the cars a bit of a blur as he zipped by, weaving in and out of lanes, all his senses alert for the unexpected pedestrian, side mirror or car door. It never failed to get his adrenaline pumping and he felt like he was apart of the ceaseless action of the city.  
  
At last he reached his destination so he slowed his bike and hopped off, carrying it up over the curb to lock it up at the rack outside the coffee shop. Blaine unclipped his helmet and ran his fingers through his messy curls before entering shop that was just off campus and so full to the brim with desperate college students looking for an energy boost to help them get through the day.  
  
Blaine got in line only taking a cursory look at the menu overhead; he was getting his usual today. The young barista behind the counter smiled as she recognized him. "Let me guess, medium drip." Blaine grinned ruefully. "How come I never see you in here with anyone? I can't believe anyone as gorgeous as you can be single."  
  
Blaine made a wincing face. "Must be my personality."  
  
The flirty brunette pulled out a cup and automatically wrote his name on it. "I don't believe that either. How about we go out some time and I'll give you my unbiased opinion?"  
  
Chuckling, Blaine told her apologetically, "Sorry, not on your team."  
  
Her smile dimmed instantly. "Figures. Well, in that case, why hasn't some gorgeous guy snapped you up?"  
  
He made another adorable grimace. "I guess because I'm really picky."  
  
"Oh? So what, a blonde with a six pack and a bank account to match?" she teased.  
  
"Ah no," Blaine laughed. "Likes long walks on the beach, old black and white movies, still believes in romance - and not as a punch line - and can actually stay in a relationship for longer than three months without cheating with the first wannabe model he meets."  
  
"Wow! A real life romantic. Rumor had it that you all were extinct." Blaine rolled his eyes and shrugged. The barista finished filling his cup and snapped a black lid on. "Well, if you ever find this mythical unicorn, find out if he's got a straight brother and tell him to call me."  
  
Blaine laughed as he took his cup. "I'll do that...."  
  
He turned to reach over to grab a straw and a packet of sugar when he collided straight into another person.  
  
*  
  
The young man cried out as the paper tray of cups he was carrying in front of him, up ended against his chest then slipping out of his grasp and spilled all over the floor. "Oh my God!" he cried pulling at his wet jacket before seeing the catastrophe at his feet. He was immediately on his knees vainly trying to salvage something out of the wreckage, all the while whispering frantically to himself, "Ohmygod, ohmygod, he's going to kill me, no no no no no.... what am I going to do?"  
  
Blaine automatically dropped down beside the young man. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." But he wasn't look at him, he was gathering up the cups and lids back onto the tray as if somehow that might mitigate the damage. "I'm afraid they're goners," Blaine tried to joke to lighten the mood because the young man was looking at the spilled cups like they were jumpers off the Brooklyn Bridge. Instead the boy started trembling.  
  
"Hey, it's okay--" Blaine began.  
  
"It is NOT okay!" the boy's voice was high and sharp-edged with alarm. "I was getting these for my boyfriend!"  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine said, spying the name off of one of the fallen cups. He caught the nervous hand flitting over the mess as if they could somehow cast a magic spell to undo the damage and for the first time, the young man looked up. Blaine forgot his own name. He was looking into the face of the most beautiful boy he'd seen in his life, his skin pale and flawless, a face that Blaine was tempted to say could only belong to an angel recently fallen from heaven, and a pair of breathtaking blue eyes flecked around the center with myriad of other colors that Blaine would like to spend an hour or two staring into to see how many of them he could identify.  
  
Blaine had to blink himself back into reality. "Kurt, is it?" He had to clear his throat. "It's okay, I can fix this. You go into the bathroom and get cleaned up and I'll get you a new order... the least I can do since this was my fault. Okay?"  
  
Kurt's lips wavered like he was trying to say something then he just nodded. Blaine helped him to his feet and pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. He turned back to the counter and the barista.  
  
She smirked at him. "That was fast!"  
  
Blaine gave a short laugh but then what Kurt said suddenly sunk in. "He has a boyfriend," he sighed.  
  
The brunette gave him a look that was both sympathetic and sardonic. "Welcome to my world."  
  
Blaine grinned. "Can I get another of his order and put it on my bill. And throw me some paper towels."  
  
*  
  
By the time Kurt returned, looking immaculate and actually quite stylish.  _Damn, he's got a boyfriend_ , Blaine thought as he plastered on a smile. "So, here you go," and he handed the fresh set of cups to Kurt while holding his own cup in his other hand.  
  
"Thanks," Kurt smiled nervously, his eyes never quite meeting Blaine's.  
  
"You know, if you've got a minute..."  
  
"No! Ah, I mean, sorry, I'm kind of in a hurry and I'm late already," Kurt said hastily, already moving for the door.  
  
Blaine sprinted ahead to hold open the door. "Let me get you a taxi then," he offered and didn't bother to wait for Kurt's refusal. He stepped out to the curb and whistled up a taxi.  
  
"Oh no, I can't afford... please don't..." Kurt was saying  
  
"My fault, remember? So you have to let me make amends," Blaine smiled brightly at him. "I'll be wracked with guilt if you don't."  
  
He rapped on the front passenger window and then pulled out some cash from his wallet. When the driver lowered the window he handed the money to him. "Take him wherever he wants to go."  
  
The driver counted out the bills and then grinned broadly. "No problem."  
  
Blaine opened the back door with a flourish. "There you go, sir. Catastrophe averted."  
  
Kurt smiled wanly, nervously glancing at Blaine and then away again. "Thanks... really," he said softly as he got in, smiling again, blushing this time.  
  
Blaine's heart flip-flopped.  _Damn, he has a boyfriend_. And he shut the door and watched the car pull away.  
  
"One nice guy, whose gay and available... and has incredible blue eyes... and doesn't mind cuddling." Blaine looked up to the sky. "Is that so much to ask for?"  
  
* * *  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Blaine didn't look back at Cooper as he returned from the kitchen where he helped himself to a bagel with cream cheese that he warmed up in the microwave.  
  
"I'm downloading a movie," Blaine replied lounging on his couch with the remote in his hand. He scrawled through the options on the flatscreen.  
  
"The Last Unicorn?!" Coop demanded. "You got to be kidding me?"  
  
"Too gay for you?" Blaine flipped.  
  
"Too twelve year old girl!" Coop shot back. "Even for you."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
The older and devastatingly handsome man flopped over the back of the couch next to his brother. "I know you love animated films but... seriously?" Blaine just gave him a dirty look. "At least make it the Little Mermaid."  
  
Blaine wasn't about to tell Coop that he wanted to watch a movie about a pale white unicorn that was tragically unavailable anymore than he wanted to admit that he was still obsessing over Kurt even though it had been over a week. "Nobody's asking you to watch...!"  
  
"Fine," Cooper relented. "I'm going, but I am begging you...!  _Please_ , get yourself laid before you start buying Hello Kitty! pillows to sleep with at night. I don't want to have to disown you."  
  
"Don't let the door hit you in the ass!" Blaine snapped.  
  
Coop just laughed and headed for the door. "Later." Then added wickedly, "I'll pick you up a Bieber poster for your room... because, o-m-g, his hair is SOOOO cuuutttte!"  
  
Blaine threw a pillow at him but it only hit the closed door. He huffed and dropped back against the cushions. Of course, Coop had a point, as aggravating as the dating scene could be, he certainly was going to meet anyone by sitting on his couch - and fantasizing about an angel falling into his lap.  
  
He'd call Wes and David and see what they were up to..... after he watched the movie.


	2. Broken Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine runs into Kurt again - almost literally. Trigger Warnings for injuries from abusive relationship

**\- New York City -**  
  
"JESUS!" " _YA RƎBBIM!_ " Blaine and his driver exclaimed at the same time as the driver slammed on the brakes and Blaine threw up his hands to keep from flying face first into the divider.  
  
Blaine had been riding a rather pleasant buzz when he finally said good night to Wes. The off campus party hadn't been too bad until he met Ryan, gay and available, but then spent the next forty minutes on a bitter tirade about his ex. That was when Blaine started drinking.  
  
They were only a block from his apartment when a straight-out-of-a-horror-flick-ghost-zombie, all in white, stumbled out of the night and directly in the path of the taxi. The figure froze and threw up its arms in terror as the cab screeched to an abrupt stop.  
  
The driver was cursing up a storm, switching in and out of English as Blaine pushed himself back into his seat, his heart battering against his ribcage. When he looked back out of the windshield the apparition was gone. He didn't hear anything hit the car, nothing went under the wheels yet there was nothing out there but a dark street.  
  
Blaine slid across the seat, opened the door and scrambled out. Their  _ghost_  had made it as far as the curb before collapsing. He looked like a broken doll wrapped in a sheet. Blaine didn't see any blood or obvious injury, as he knelt beside the prone figure and gently rolled him over.  
  
"Kurt!" Blaine gasped in shock at the gaunt face of the beautiful boy he'd only met a week ago, now looking far too literally like he fell from heaven. "My God."  
  
The driver was out of the cab too and still ranting non-stop while he checked his car for damage before coming to stare at Kurt. He was talking so fast and even when he switched into English his accent was so thick he couldn't be sure but Blaine thought he was saying, "No trouble, no trouble."  
  
Blaine reached out an arm to him. "Help me with him...."  
  
" _Kabus!_ " And the man was motioning with his hand; he was either crossing himself or making some gesture to ward off evil. Either way, he half-stumbled, half-ran back to the cab and got in.  
  
"Oh great, terrific, thanks!" Blaine yelled as the taxi raced away.  
  
He turned back to Kurt. He cupped his cheek and gave him a gentle shake. "Kurt, Kurt..." The boy's eyes slitted open but didn't really focus on anything. Blaine shook him again trying to get his attention. "Are you hurt? Kurt...? Okay, I've got to get you to a hospital....?"  
  
"No!" The voice was weak and raspy but the blue eyes flew open in alarm. He started to struggle, his efforts lacked any strength but he wouldn't stop.  
  
"Kurt. You need to be checked out, you could be injured. Please, Kurt, it's alright."  
  
But Kurt just kept repeating, "no no no no no no...."  
  
He twisted and squirmed in Blaine's arms and grew more and more hysterical despite all Blaine's efforts to calm him. He thought Kurt was going to start hyperventilating. "Kurt! Stop. Alright, alright, I won't call an ambulance. Kurt-- STOP!"  
  
Suddenly Kurt went limp in his arms. Blaine stared at him stunned and not at all sure what he should do. "My place is just a block from here. Let me take you there and make sure you're okay, alright?"  
  
Kurt didn't argue, he didn't say anything at all but at least he wasn't fighting it. Blaine secured an arm around Kurt's shoulders and helped him sit up. Kurt winced a little. Through the sheet, it didn't feel like Kurt was wearing anything.  _What the hell happened to him?_  Blaine thought as he pulled back just enough to pull off his jacket so he could wrap it around Kurt.  
  
As he helped Kurt up, Blaine saw his bare and dirty feet and cursed inwardly. Maybe once he got Kurt up to his place he could convince him to let him call the police because it was pretty clear Kurt had been attacked.

  
* * *  
  
Blaine was eternally grateful that there was no behavior so insanely bizarre that it could not be explained away with the words "college party." Jorge, the night man at the lobby desk, didn't even question Blaine's story that Kurt was wasted from a toga party gone wild and was going to sleep it off on his couch.  
  
Opening the door to his condo, Blaine guided Kurt over to said couch. Kurt's face scrunched up as he sat down and immediately tilted over so he could half-lie down and closed his eyes. Blaine turned on some lights and came back to kneel beside him.  
  
"Kurt, are you injured?" he asked quietly. Kurt just shook his head, never opening his eyes. Blaine sighed knowing that he couldn't believe anything Kurt told him right now. "Kurt, I'm not going to call an ambulance or the police... not unless you want me to, so please tell me the truth... were you raped?"  
  
Kurt's chin quivered and his brows drew together as he turned his face into the cushions. Blaine's heart twisted with pain and anger began to take root, but Blaine took deep, slow breaths to center himself, he wasn't going to be able to help Kurt if he lost it. "Do you have any clothes on... under the sheet?" Kurt didn't move. "Let me look..."  
  
Blaine reached up to the sheet wrapped around his neck but as soon as Kurt realized what he was doing he clutched the sheet around himself in a white-knuckled grip and started to pull away. Instantly Blaine backed off. "Alright, I won't. It's okay," he smoothed but rubbed his face with his hand in frustration.  
  
Trying a different tact, Blaine said, "Kurt, you got away. You're safe. Whoever did this to you doesn't know where you are and even he did, he can't get to you here. Kurt, look at me."  
  
Blaine stroked Kurt's hair a couple of times before gently urging him to turn his head. "Look at me," Blaine insisted again and Kurt did. For a crazy instant, Blaine thought, _'Those blue eyes are going to break my heart_ ' before focusing himself and said trying every way he knew how to make Kurt believe him, "I'm never going to let him hurt you again, I promise you!"  
  
Fear still laced those blue eyes but for the first time they lifted up to his and didn't look away. Blaine leaned forward. "I promise," he repeated. "Just let me help you." Kurt still didn't look away and Blaine smiled. "We can have him arrested --"  
  
Kurt mouthed the word "no" and struggled to get off the couch. "Kurt! Once he's in jail, he won't be able to hurt you again."  
  
But it was just like down on the street, Kurt had no real strength to fight with but he was working himself up into full-blown panic and nothing Blaine said mattered. "Kurt. Kurt. Stop-- STOP!"  
  
And just like before, Kurt froze and then went completely limp as if some off-switch had been flipped. Blaine frowned at this puzzling behavior and suddenly his mind flashed back over the events at the coffee shop. At the time Blaine had just thought Kurt was wound a little tight, maybe having a bad day or a bad week, but now he was realizing Kurt hadn't simply been stressed, he'd been afraid. Blaine's stomach churned. He'd seen enough cop shows to know that the younger the victim the greater the chances were the abuser was someone they knew.  
  
"Kurt, I want you to look at me." As Blaine spoke to Kurt he put some authority in his voice. Kurt kept his face half-turned away but looked up at him. "Tell me the truth, did your boyfriend do this to you?"  
  
Kurt's face just crumbled and he began to visibly trembled. Blaine's arm immediately wrapped around Kurt, leaning over him as a fresh wave of pain and anger came over him while he held Kurt and stroked his hair, telling him that everything was going to be okay and he was safe and he was going to let anyone hurt him ever again and he would take care of him, trying to reassure himself as much as Kurt.  
  
*  
  
Blaine made a decision and he hoped it was the right one.  
  
After finally calming Kurt down again and thinking what he should do next, Blaine considered the options. He could overrule Kurt and call the police anyway but given his fear Kurt would probably lie to them. Even if he finally told them the truth later, the lie would be on the record and a defense attorney could use it to discredit him. Blaine shuddered to think of Kurt on the witness stand, the defense would tear him to pieces, saying it was consensual and that was the way he liked it.  
  
White hot rage overwhelmed him for an moment and he wanted nothing more than to find this bastard boyfriend and beat him with a tire iron. It was probably a good think that he didn't know who he was or where to find him because he really wasn't sure right now he wouldn't do it.  
  
Blaine made a choice - he'd protect Kurt come hell or high water.  
  
* * *  
  
At Blaine's insistence Kurt allowed himself to taken into the bathroom where he'd help get Kurt cleaned up. He brought in a few things and a pair of old sweat pants and hoodie to change into. Kurt half-sat on the closed toilet seat and half-leaned against the sink counter.  
  
Blaine decided against suggesting a shower right now, Kurt looked wiped out, paler than the first time he met him, and Blaine wasn't sure if it was the shadows under the eyes but they appeared a little sunken... just looking like a broken angel.  
  
Blaine dampened a wash cloth to wipe away the dirt and grime of the city - and any physical evidence - he was committing himself to this course of action now. This time when Blaine reached for the sheet Kurt made no effort to stop him, all resistance was gone from him and it did nothing to make Blaine feel better about this. As Blaine gently drew the sheet away, Blaine caught his breath.  
  
Around the slender column of Kurt's neck were harsh black bruises, imprints of fingers choking him. "God!" the whispered word was out before Blaine knew what he was saying. He looked back up to Kurt's face, but there was just a blank empty exhausted expression there.  _Motherfucking bastard...._ Blaine rarely cursed but he was mentally reaching for every word he'd ever heard for the man who did this.  
  
And it just kept getting worse as he pulled the sheet away from his shoulders and let it drop down around his waist. More bruises and even bite marks in a couple of places. The skin around his wrists were red and rubbed almost raw, and all across his back was a minefield of bruises and raised welts in various stages of healing confirming all of Blaine's worst fears: the abuse was long term.  
  
There weren't words strong enough or vile enough for what Blaine wanted now and he started to mutter under his breath, increasingly bothered by Kurt's continued silence. He frowned over how the pale skin stretched just a little too tightly over bone, the collarbones, ribs and wrists. Blaine took one of Kurt's hand in his and gently pinched the skin over the back of the hand, it didn't immediately relax back into place the way it should have. Kurt was dehydrated, he'd get him water as soon as he was done.  
  
Blaine washed him as quickly and gently as he dared and then dressed Kurt in the hoodie sweat shirt, not wanting to add to his violation by leaving him naked. He spent more time on Kurt's feet to thoroughly wash away the dirt from running through streets barefoot applying Neosporin to cuts and scraps. As he went to work on the other foot, Blaine saw a red drying trickle trail down his ankle, lifting the sheet, it went up his leg.  
  
"Christ, Kurt, you're bleeding." Kurt didn't react at all. Blaine started to part the sheet but paused to say, "I'm just looking to see where you're hurt." Still nothing. Kurt had checked out. Maybe that was for the best. Blaine wished he could find some numb place to be right now. And just as he thought that a new wave of shock and burning anger hit him. Kurt was wearing something after all, not much of something - black leather and metal studs - and it wasn't something from a playful sex shop, this came out of a serious S&M catalog. Blaine choked and had to swallow back the bile rising up his throat.  
  
"Kurt, I need you to stand up." Blaine secured the sheet around Kurt's waist and then helped him to his feet, maneuvering Kurt so he stood in front of the vanity counter. "You can lean against this." Blaine swallowed hard, cursing to himself as he saw the blood stain on the sheet he had missed earlier. "Kurt--" then clearing his throat before continuing, sick to his stomach, "Kurt, I have to find where you're bleeding - that's allI'm doing."  
  
Kurt didn't move or protest, just leaned heavily against the counter top. Blaine lifted the sheet and, of course, there were more bruises across the thighs and butt. "Kurt, I have to touch you, it's just for a moment. I need to see your injury, okay?"  
  
Blaine didn't expect an answer. He reached for a part of him that wasn't bruised and parted him, just enough, just long enough to confirm what he suspected. He pulled away and let the sheet fall back into place, rocking back on his heels. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking bastard," he muttered harshly.  
  
He wanted to explode, he wanted to break something -- he wanted to go commit murder! But he had to keep it together, for Kurt's sake. Blaine scrubbed his face with his hand, ruthless pushing down all his rioting feelings and then dragging his fingers through his hair. He had to think about what he needed to do now.  
  
The flesh was torn and probably would have been bleeding more freely if he hadn't been dehydrated. And he was going to need stitches. As acquiescent as Kurt was right now, Blaine knew it wouldn't last if he suggested he needed a doctor. That only left one other option.  
  
*  
  
Blaine brought Kurt into the bedroom and had him lie down on his stomach. He knelt by him wishing he knew how to reach into whatever place Kurt had retreated to. He brushed his fingers along the side of his face and was surprised to see life return to the vacancy of Kurt's eyes as they shifted to him.  
  
"Kurt, you need stitches, you won't heal right if you don't get them." Blaine cupped Kurt's cheek in an effort to forestall any protest. "I can do them so no doctor. Awhile back I took some medical training when I was thinking of going into pre-Med. I learned how to do stitches, I still have some supplies, even a local anesthetic." --which he had pilfered when he had given Cooper stitches. How he got his hands on a real sword for that screen test video for Jerry Bruckheimer, he didn't want to know. But it was the first time practicing on something other than pig's feet so he knew he could do this. "Will you trust me?"  
  
Blaine really hadn't been expecting an answer so his heart clenched unexpectedly when Kurt nodded even if it was the barest movement up and down. "I'll make this as painless as possible," Blaine promised. "I'll be right back."  
  
When he returned Blaine laid out his supplies on blue disposable sterile drape sheet. He'd washed his hands with the antiseptic cleanser. He paused now to tell Kurt he was going to lower the bed sheet and as soon as he did Blaine realized he had a problem. He couldn't do this alone. "Ah, I'm going to need both hands to do this, but I can't..."  
  
Kurt understood because he reached back and spread himself open. Blaine had to choke back another string of expletives at the casualness with which Kurt did that like he'd done many times before. Again Blaine had to ruthlessly marshal his emotions to focus on his task, he couldn't have his hands shaking with need to go choke the life out of -- STOP, he mentally chastised himself. Blaine took several deep breaths, centering himself once more.  
  
"Okay," he said as much to himself as to Kurt while he pulled on the latex gloves. "I'm going to apply the anesthetic. A little cold first..." as he sterilized the injection site "and a tiny sting, then it may burn a little bit before it starts to work..."  
  
Blaine glanced up at Kurt to see if it was hurting. He thought he caught a slight twitch of an eyebrow but otherwise Kurt had gone back into silent mode. Blaine gave the anesthetic a moment to numb the area, it was a fast acting kind so it wouldn't take long. Then he cleansed the area with an antiseptic and dabbed at the oozing blood so he could see better. He gave a little test poke and there wasn't even the slightest flinch so he knew he could begin.  
  
It didn't take long, just a few stitches and Blaine was clipping the thread. He quickly finished the rest and was soon easing the sweat pants on. He threw away the used supplies, except for the needles, those he'd have to dispose separately. He stuffed the bed sheet into a fresh garbage bag along with that - whatever the hell you call that thing - Kurt had been wearing, never wanting to see it again.  
  
When Blaine came back this time, he had filled the water bottle he used with his bike. He didn't have any straws and thought this would be the easiest thing to drink from especially while lying down. Blaine lifted Kurt's head. "Here, drink this."  
  
Kurt weakly tried to grab the bottle as he tried to drink more and more and was suddenly choking, sputtering water out and over the pillow beneath him. Blaine pulled the bottle away. "Slowly," he admonished gently, wiping away the spillage with a wash cloth. "Slow," he repeated as he brought bottle back to Kurt's mouth again. Kurt obediently drank slower taking time to swallow.  
  
He protested when Blaine took the bottle away. "You can have more later," he told Kurt. "Right now, you need to take these. It's Tylenol, it'll help when the anesthetic wears off." At least he hoped so, it was the strongest thing he had. "The sutures are the absorbable kind so they won't have to be removed, they'll be gone in ten days."  
  
After Kurt swallowed the pills but Blaine lifted Kurt's head a little more so he could remove the damp pillow and toss it to the floor. He replaced it with its twin from the other side of the bed. "Try to sleep," Blaine said as he lowered Kurt's head back down.  
  
Kurt reached out to touch Blaine's hand as he pulled the covers over him and Blaine froze for a second. "It's okay now," he whispered. "Everything's going to be alright. Sleep now." But as he tried to slowly pull his hand away, Kurt's fingers weakly curled around his.  
  
"Kurt...." Blaine breathed his name, torn. Part of him wanted to retreat into the other room and give vent to his anger and the other part never wanted to leave Kurt's side. It was all decided though when Kurt made some small sound somewhere in his throat and Blaine was toeing out of his shoes and sliding under the covers. Kurt scooted over to make room and then curled up against Blaine.  
  
Blaine tucked Kurt in under his chin and pulled the blanket close around him. "It's alright, you're safe," he whispered into Kurt's hair. He took a heavy breath when he had them settled, not sure what to do about all the chaotic feelings battling inside him. "Nothing will hurt you now," he kept up the reassurances.  
  
Although Blaine had long since been shocked sober, the alcohol he'd drunk earlier caught up with him like a knockout blow, every part of him felt like he weighed a ton and he didn't think he'd be able to keep his eyes open for very long. They both fell asleep to Blaine's whispered promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya rəbbim and kabus is Azerbaijani for 'oh my god' and 'ghost/specter' (according to Google Translate)


	3. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though not sure how, Blaine resolves to help Kurt to recover from his abusive relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long to update... time just got away from me, I've been so busy in RL. So here's the next chapter. :)

Blaine sighed heavily still feeling heavy and... thick and didn't particularly want to move but there was some vague but persistent thought that he should know something.... something not quite right but couldn't remember what.

Yes, he wasn't supposed to be alone. Blaine's arm blindly searched under the covers but only found mattress. His eyes cracked open - no one was there. Kurt! Suddenly Blaine was awake, lifting his head off the pillow and a throbbing immediately started pounding at the back of his skull and he regretted the abrupt movement. Still he had to look, he had to find.... Kurt.

He was there, still lying in the bed but scooted all the way to the very far edge of the bed that one little push would send him onto the floor. He just lay there quiet, no sound, no expression, just watching him with his blue eyes.

The first attempts to speak were foiled by his mouth being bone-dry and Blaine had to clear his throat before he could get out any comprehensible sounds. "Kurt, you're okay." It was both question and yet another reassurance that went unanswered.

The empty vacancy was gone from Kurt's eyes; he was present, but whatever trust, born out of exhaustion or desperation or whatever, was gone too. That caused a twinge somewhere inside Blaine's chest.

"God, please, Kurt, say something. Anything, 'cause I don't think I can take any more of your silence."

Kurt's watchful eyes slid away from his now but his lips parted. "Where am I?" he asked softly.

Finally! "My apartment," Blaine told him and gave him the address in case that helped him. "You remember last night? You ran out in the street. My taxi almost hit you so I brought you home."

"I remember," Kurt nodded but that was all he seemed inclined to recall.

A thought suddenly occurred to Blaine. "I don't know if I ever told you my name...."

"Blaine, from the coffee shop," Kurt whispered. "I know."

"Right. Good. So... do you have any family, friends, we should call?" Blaine asked and Kurt turned his head away, shaking his head no. And they were back to where he couldn't believe what Kurt told him was true or not. Blaine sighed. "It's okay, you can stay here for as long as you need."

Kurt lapsed back into watchful silence again and since Blaine didn't feel like lying there trying to interrogate Kurt so he pushed back the covers and sat up. His head pounded again and he scrubbed his face with his hands. He needed to shave - he needed to shave his tongue! Why did alcohol always have that effect?

Blaine got up, still in his clothes from last night. "The Tylenol is here if you want some." He picked the bottle up from the nightstand and shook out a couple of pills for himself before setting it back by the water bottle. "And the bathroom's over here. I'm just going to grab a few things..." Blaine said as he disappeared into the bathroom for a minute re-emerging with his toothbrush and razor and other toiletries. "Ah, don't take a shower right now because of the stitches." Blaine would have to check them later, make sure it wasn't showing any signs of infection. Then he rummaged through his dresser for clothes. "I'll go make us some breakfast. You hungry? Eggs, maybe. Orange juice."

As he got to the bedroom door he paused. "Scrambled, okay? Kurt."

Kurt hadn't moved from his spot on the far edge of the bed. "Yes, please."

Blaine pressed his lips together. Somehow he had to find a way to get Kurt to trust him again.

*

When Blaine returned, he was looking and feeling much more refreshed, in relaxed jeans and a t-shirt and carrying a tray with two plates. He retrieved the discarded pillow from last night, now dry, and added it to its twin for Kurt to lean up against since sitting wasn't a good idea yet.

"We'll have to get you one of those doughnut cushions," Blaine teased gently as he spread a tea towel out on the bed in front of him and placed a plate with eggs and buttered toast. He put the glass of juice on the nightstand within easy reach.

Kurt looked at the plate like he wanted to dive in head first but he just laid there, not moving.

"Is something wrong?" Blaine prompted, not understanding what the problem was. Kurt was obviously hungry; he was practically drooling.

Blaine wanted to stab himself when Kurt looked up with an expression silently asking for permission. He choked on the reaction he really wanted to give but finally managed, "Go ahead, eat."

He tried to take some comfort that Kurt reached for the fork instead of just shoveling the food in like he looked like he wanted to. Blaine pulled the tray with his own plate over to the easy chair where he played his guitar and wrote music and forced himself to eat, having lost his appetite.

They ate in silence and when Kurt cleaned his plate of every crumb and was now tilting the glass up for every drop, Blaine was moved to say, "You know, you can have more."

Kurt shook his head as he had the glass at vertical. When he was finished he licked his lips and said meekly, "No, thank you."

Under any other circumstances, Blaine probably would have found that incredibly adorable, but as it was, he grimly came over to collect the dishes. "Kurt --"

"I'm tired," Kurt cut in. He reached for the covers to pull over himself as he slid down into the bed. "Can I sleep some more?"

Blaine hesitated. This was a pretty blatant dodge at avoiding questions but Kurt really did need to heal so he decided to let Kurt get away with it.

"Sure," he said and gathered up the dishes and took the tray out.

*

A few minutes later, Blaine dropped on the couch, knowing he may well have gotten himself way over his head. He had no idea just how bad the abuse had been and God knows he was not qualified for this. He wasn't clear about the law here but he had to assume it was the same for therapists as doctors, that they were obligated to report assaults. He wanted to call someone but he knew exactly what his friends and family would say, so he didn't.

He didn't want to send Kurt away. If he really didn't have anywhere to go, his only option would be a shelter or some halfway home. There was no way he was letting that happen. He had a guest room and there was no reason in the world Kurt couldn't stay here. Okay, he was rationalizing and he knew it.

The plain truth was he wanted to keep Kurt close. He wanted to wrap him up in a blanket - and in his arms - and keep him safe from every rotten thing in the world. And Kurt might let him. Probably right now he wanted to curl up into a ball and never get out of bed again. Without taking even a single psych class, Blaine knew that was exactly what he couldn't let him do.

Just from what little he knew so far, that akfadliefaif-eff-ing bastard of a boyfriend had hardly let Kurt breathe without permission. He was going to have to somehow help Kurt rebuild a sense of independence and he suspected he was going to have to push Kurt to do it. But what happens if he pushed too hard?

Blaine rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Well, he would just have to take this one day at a time and try to let common sense guide him and if that didn't work then he'd have to get help - he'd cross that bridge when they got there. In the meantime, he'd do the obvious things. Kurt was going to need clothes, he couldn't keep wearing his, Kurt was a good few inches taller than he was and his legs were definitely longer.

Thank God for New York, where as long as you could get it into an elevator, you could get just about anything delivered to your door. Blaine reached for his jacket which he had left on the couch and pulled out his phone. He saw a text message from David asking why he was in class this morning. Hell.

Blaine texted him back telling him he had a family thing and could he email him the notes and any assignments. While he was at it he contacted others to cover him for the next week, he didn't dare leave Kurt alone. He didn't think Kurt would do himself an injury - at least not yet - but he was afraid that he might bolt if given the chance and he'd have no way of finding him again. Worst of all, he could go back to - Blaine didn't want to think of it, as incomprehensible as it was, victims did go back to their abusers. Damned if he was going to let that happen!

* * *

"Morning," Blaine greeted cheerfully as entered his bedroom just after knocking. He'd given Kurt the first day to rest but today he was going to begin 'pushing'.

As Kurt watched, he came and placed a small bag and a set of folded clothes on the end of the bed. "I got you some clothes... had to guess the size, hope it's right. And there's a toothbrush and things. So get dressed and we'll have breakfast in the kitchen."

Blaine gave him an encouraging smile but tried to use a tone of voice that was telling him more than asking him. It must have worked because some fifteen minutes later Kurt quietly stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded across in front of him.

'So far, so good,' Blaine smiled to himself. The clothes Blaine had bought were pretty basic: jeans, an undershirt and a long sleeve button-up, thinking Kurt would prefer a sense of security than fashion right now. He'd purposefully chosen a large size so the clothes wouldn't chafe against his wounds. He'd also gotten some salve for Kurt's wrists, they'd start to itch once the skin started to heal.

Blaine sat at the kitchen table and though the gentleman in him wanted to rise when Kurt entered, he stayed seated. "The cereal is over there." he pointed over to the boxes on the counter. "And the bowls in that cupboard and the spoons over there. Get what you want."

He waited for Kurt who paused a moment and then moved through the kitchen filling his bowl. Blaine couldn't help it, he pulled out the chair for Kurt. "Ah, got you one of those cushions to sit on."

Sitting back down, Blaine poured milk into his own bowl and then pushed the jug toward Kurt who followed suit. When Kurt didn't start to eat, he remembered. "Kurt, you don't need permission to eat. Eat whenever you want to, you're free now."

Nodding encouragingly at him, Kurt dug his spoon into his cereal. Blaine let him eat in silence mostly because he didn't want to lose his appetite again. As the finished, Blaine lifted his bowl and drank the remaining milk and grinned sheepishly at Kurt.

One corner of Kurt's mouth tugged upward which sent Blaine spiraling upward. It was the tiniest of gestures and he really couldn't be sure if Kurt was amused at his antics or if that was the obligated 'laugh at your host's joke because he thinks he's being funny', but either way, he was glad to see some kind of expression from Kurt.

"Kurt, we need to talk," Blaine started and sure enough any semblance of a smile faded from Kurt's face. He sighed inwardly. "Are you sure there isn't anyone you can call... even if it's just to let them know you're okay?"

Kurt stared down into his empty bowl and shook his head.

"Look, I promise I won't call anyone if you don't want me to. You don't have any family here?" Again the no. "You're not from New York, then?" Still no. Blaine sighed heavily. He wanted to reach out and take Kurt's hand but given the wounds on his wrists, Kurt had obviously been tied up at some point and he didn't want to give Kurt any impression that he was trying to constrain him. "Kurt, all I want to do is help you."

"Why?"

Kurt's voice was small and quiet and he finally looked up with his blue eyes, honestly not understanding, and it pained Blaine's heart. "Because you're in trouble. What am I supposed to do? Kick you out to the street when you don't have any place to go? I've got a spare room that nobody uses - well, except for my brother when he's not crashing with one of his friends - and besides he just went back to LA for an audition.... he's an actor."

Blaine was aware that he was starting to ramble and needed to get back on track. "The point is, you can stay as long as you need to."

Kurt lowered his eyes again but said, "Thank you."

Blaine smiled even though Kurt couldn't see and this time his hand did reach out and cover Kurt's for a moment before Blaine retracted it. "Anytime."

"So..." Blaine continued, "I take it you were living with your boyfriend, you don't have a place of your own?" Kurt nodded. "Is there anything there that we should get? Your things--"

There was no mistaking Kurt's expression now - it was panic. Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand to keep him from shooting right out of his chair. "Kurt, don't! You don't ever have to see him again! You don't even have to go. I can take some friends over there to get whatever you want."

Blaine continued to reassure Kurt until he calmed down again but Kurt won't stop shaking his head no. "I don't want anything from there."

"That's okay, in fact, that's perfect," Blaine said and he reached to cup Kurt's cheek, to stop his frantic movement and to get Kurt to focus on him. "A fresh start. Everything new for your new life."

"A new life?" Kurt whispered and Blaine nodded at him. "I... I'd like that."

A wisp of a smile pulled at Kurt's mouth and Blaine thought he saw the beginning of what he thought was hope... like that breathtaking moment when kindling took flame when it would either catch fire or snuff itself out. Blaine beamed at him and stroked Kurt's cheek with his thumb wanting nothing more than to encourage it to grow.


End file.
